


Of Devils, Desserts and Architectural Delights

by lilyvandersteen



Category: Glee
Genre: Belgium (Country), Ghent, M/M, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 04:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4691756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilyvandersteen/pseuds/lilyvandersteen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine spend the summer after their wedding touring through the United States and then through South America, Europe, Asia and New Zealand. This episode of the Klaine Road Trip 2015 takes us to Ghent, in Belgium. Prepare for lots of food descriptions, sightseeing and the story of Gerald the Devil. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Devils, Desserts and Architectural Delights

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story might make you hungry :-)
> 
> This fanfic was betaed by the uncomparable hkvoyage (thank you so much, sweetie!)
> 
> Whenever you see a link in the story, it will lead you to a picture or to more information about a certain subject (e.g. a recipe).

Kurt sighed regretfully as they entered the Paris Nord train station. Discovering Paris had been lovely, and he really wanted to skip the next stop in their itinerary in favour of staying there a while longer.

Blaine led the way to platform 7, where the Thalys train already stood waiting, and checked the tickets.

“Carriage 4, places 15 and 16,” Blaine read out, and they went to their carriage and found their places. “Hey, there’s even a bar here!”

“Blaine, we just had breakfast!” Kurt admonished his husband.

“I know, I know,” Blaine acknowledged, and then smirked. “Though we did work some of that off already before we checked out of the hotel, didn’t we?”

Kurt shushed Blaine and shot a panicked look at the elderly couple sitting across from them, but the man merely nodded at them in a friendly way, and the woman actually smiled.

Blaine returned her smile, entwined his fingers with Kurt’s and brought their joint hands to his mouth to kiss them.

Kurt felt his stomach flutter and the corners of his mouth tilt upward at the sweet gesture.

_I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Blaine’s small signs of love… Nor do I think I want to if this is how it makes me feel…_

Kurt cleared his throat. “So where are we heading now?”

“Our next stop is Ghent,” Blaine grinned happily.

“Ghent?” Kurt asked, puzzled. “Is that still in France? I’ve never heard of a place called Ghent.”

“No, it’s in Belgium, actually,” Blaine clarified. “I think you’re really going to like the B&B where we’re staying tonight. Gets rave reviews. Apparently, the breakfast they serve is outstanding.”

“Belgium?” Kurt grimaced. “Why would you want to go there? Can’t we stay in France a bit longer?”

“Kuuuurt,” Blaine drawled. “I know you love France and have dreamt of coming here for over a decade, but I promise you that you’re going to like Belgium just as much. There’s so much to see, and the food is amazing. My parents and I went to De Haan once, when I was about eight, and I remember we went to a fancy restaurant for dinner. My mom and dad ate _croquettes aux crevettes grises_ (grey shrimp croquettes) as an entrée, and then my mom chose _sole meunière_ (sole in a brown butter sauce) and my dad _moules-frites_ (mussels with French fries) for their main dish. I had asparagus soup and then _tomate aux crevettes_ (tomato stuffed with grey North Sea shrimps) with French fries. My parents let me taste their dishes too, and it was all so delicious. And then they had coffee, and it was served with this cookie called _speculoos_ , and yum, that’s good.”

“So why aren’t we going to De Haan then?” Kurt inquired.

Blaine grinned again. “I did my research, and according to the Lonely Planet, Belgium’s best kept secret is Ghent. It’s not overrun with tourists, but full of beautiful historic buildings and all sorts of museums. There’s nearly always some event going on during the summer months - a large-scale ten-day festival in July called the “Gentse Feesten” and a smaller-scale one in August, a jazz festival and one celebrating classical music - you name it, they have it. They even have a film festival in Ghent. That’s in October. And for me, what tipped the scale was that Ghent boasts a dessert that the Lonely Planet lists in its [top six of best sweet treats worldwide](http://www.lonelyplanet.com/belgium/flanders/ghent/travel-tips-and-articles/76799).”

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Oh, really? I have a high standard for desserts, you know.”

“I know,” Blaine laughed. “Another of the six desserts on the list is New York cheesecake, and you love that, don’t you? Anyway, I’ve written down the address, and we’re going there as soon as our train arrives in Gent-Sint-Pieters.”

K&B

A few hours later, they were sitting in a quaintly decorated tearoom called [_Etablissement Max_](http://www.etablissementmax.be/en/). Its interior was retro and showed art nouveau elements, and the aromas wafting from the kitchen were absolutely mouth-watering.

Blaine had explained to Kurt that it was their waffles Max was famous for. Blaine ended up ordering waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, whereas Kurt was intrigued by the _cuberdon_ sauce (a thick and sweet raspberry-flavoured sauce, based on the Flemish _cuberdon_ sweets), which he’d had the waiter explain to him and then had chosen as a topping for his waffle.

Their coffee came first, and, true to Blaine’s word, it did come with a _speculoos_ cookie and Kurt did like the taste of it.

Then the waffles arrived, piping hot and delightfully light and crispy. Blaine offered Kurt a bite of his waffle with a strawberry and whipped cream on top, and Kurt agreed that it made a yummy combination. He let Blaine taste his _cuberdon_ -soaked waffle as well, and Blaine moaned in appreciation. “A bit too sweet, but I love the flavour.”

When they stepped out of the waffle house, Blaine led Kurt straight to the belfry, just across the road, and smiled at Kurt as though he had a wonderful surprise for him. “When I told Wes we’d stop in Ghent on our road trip, he told me that I just had to see [Ghent’s fencing club](http://www.flanderstoday.eu/art/oldest-fencing-club-world-celebrates-400th-birthday-ghent). It’s the oldest in the entire world, and they practise in the attic of the Cloth Hall, right next to the belfry. It’s not open to visitors, but Wes pulled some strings for me, and one of the current club members is going to show us around.”

Blaine found their guide, Freek, and after they had shook hands and introduced themselves, they went upstairs and admired the beautiful fencing hall.

“I bet you’re wondering how on earth a club could get permission to practice their sport in such a fine historical building instead of an ordinary gym, aren’t you?” Freek chuckled. “It’s not a European thing, I assure you. It’s just as exceptional here. And for the reason why, we have to go back to the 17th century. In 1613, the Archdukes Albert and Isabella founded this fencing club, and gave it permission to use this place as their training area “ _ten eeuwigen dage_ ”, which means forever. So our fencing club is here to stay.”

Freek told them some more about the club’s history, and then, seeing how enviously Blaine eyed the practising fencers, offered to let him spar with them. When Blaine accepted eagerly, Freek hurried away to find him the fencing gear he needed.

Kurt smiled indulgently at his husband and made sure to take lots of pictures during the light free play.

They thanked Freek warmly and took their leave, walking to the Saint Bavo’s cathedral to look at its famous altarpiece, [_The Adoration of the Mystic Lamb_](http://www.tpstravelcorner.com/mediac/450_0/media/DIR_122/tpmysticlamb.jpg), and then checking out the castle of Gerald the Devil.

“The legend says that Count Gerald was dubbed “the Devil” because he had jet-black hair and a swarthy complexion, and was ruthless and cruel,” Blaine read from his guidebook. “He’s rumoured to have killed his father, just because he didn’t feel like going on a crusade with his old man, and later on his first wife, when she gave birth to a son just as swarthy as he was. His son was nicknamed Gerald the Moor, and was just as horrible as his father. One day, father and son both fell in love with the same woman, and Gerald the Devil devised a ruse to get her for himself. He pretended to agree to his son marrying the woman, and said he’d leave the castle for a while so they could have their wedding celebrations there. Only, would his son be so kind as to go ask the sailors in the Red Tower if everything was ready? He’d asked the sailors to strangle the first person to come into the tower and throw the body into the river. The son, who didn’t trust his father, did not go, so the first person that climbed the tower was Gerald the Devil himself, and the sailors, as asked, strangled him and threw him into the water. Since his ending was so violent, word has it that his ghost and that of his son can find no rest and haunt each other forever, so the castle is cursed to this very day.”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “Wow, what a story. Pity we can’t go inside.”

They walked past the bishop’s palace and the theatre to admire the town hall, and then checked into their B&B in a street close by. The B&B was in a beautifully restored old town house, but their room wasn’t in the house itself. The hostess led them through the garden to an annex. It had a cosy sitting nook with a fireplace, and at the top, there was a whirlpool bath with a glass dome over it, so that you could look at the Ghent skyline during the day and at the stars at night. On the table, there was an assortment of chocolates to enjoy. Kurt’s eyes lit up and he popped one into his mouth straightaway.

After finishing off the chocolates with a cup of tea, they went out to explore the city a bit further and then to go get dinner.

In a part of the city called “Patershol”, they discovered a [tiny sweet shop](http://static.skynetblogs.be/media/102622/3795332347.JPG) where all the sweets were still being made artisanally, using the original recipes and moulds. The saleswoman, clearly very used to tourists, told Kurt and Blaine the peculiar names of the sweets. When she mentioned “ _cuberdons_ ” and went on to explain that these sweets were called “[red noses](http://www.cuberdonsleopold.com/NL/images/0.jpg)” in vernacular, Kurt looked at Blaine and they both cracked up.

They ended up buying _cuberdons_ and very sour “ _muilentrekkers_ ” (literally “face-pullers”) that Blaine planned on giving to Sam.

Outside, they admired the shop’s façade. The bas-relief depicted the acts of mercy from the Bible.

A few streets further, they saw a gruesome collection of torture devices at the [Castle of the Counts](http://www.stedentripper.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/11/gravensteen.jpg) and climbed up to its battlements for an amazing view of the city.

After that, they bought tickets for a sightseeing boat trip through the medieval centre of Ghent, and Kurt’s camera worked overtime as he tried to catch all of the sights on film: the churches, the guild halls, the monasteries and the castle. The guide pointed out all the landmarks and told lots of anecdotes about them, switching seamlessly between English and Belgium’s official languages: Dutch, French and German.

As they left the boat, Blaine remarked that their guide had told different stories in French than she had in English.

“I know,” Kurt answered. “This is one of those times where it pays to speak several languages. Pity I don’t understand Dutch - she seemed to tell the longest stories and get the most laughs when speaking her own language.”

On their way to the restaurant, they passed a jewellery store where Kurt halted and looked at the window display. “Mercedes would love these earrings, I’m sure.”

Blaine smiled and nodded. They went inside and ended up buying three different pairs: one for Mercedes, one for Rachel and one for Santana.

“Rachel can have them for her birthday,” Kurt decided. “Mercedes and Santana will have to wait until Christmas.”

They walked to an alley off the shopping street “Veldstraat”, where the restaurant Blaine had chosen was located. “[Het Pakhuis](http://www.pakhuis.be/en/)” was a former warehouse, airy and light, with an interior that made Kurt feel like he’d stepped onto the [set of “The Golden Compass”](http://images.webbynotes.com/46/qiymkg/1100x1100/bar.jpg). The service was quick and friendly, and the food was positively scrumptious: a tomato carpaccio with herbs and flowers and sorrel sorbet, followed by duck fillet with rösti and pointed cabbage and for dessert red fruit with ginger ice cream.

They took the scenic way back, via the Graslei, and when they arrived back at their B&B, they filled the whirlpool bath and sank into the hot water with a weary sigh. Kurt closed his eyes, and let his thoughts drift off to what they’d seen and done that day. Ghent had truly proved a revelation.

After a while, his peaceful musings were interrupted by Blaine, who had disappeared under the water and was waking up a certain body part of Kurt’s. Kurt was quick to get the memo and was out of the bath in a flash, tugging Blaine along to the bed.

The next morning, their [breakfast](http://be.zooverresources.com/images/T4538400I312926W900H675/Chambre-Plus.jpg) was delivered to the annex, and they took the tray in bed with them, enjoying the colourful and very varied fruit salad, the still warm rolls and assorted pastries, the wide range of variety in cold cuts and cheeses, the home-made jams and chocolate spread and even a salted caramel spread, the eggs made to order, and the well-filled dessert plate. There was so much that they didn’t even manage to finish all of it.

“You weren’t kidding about the breakfast being rave-worthy,” Kurt moaned, patting his stomach.

“I know, right?” Blaine agreed.

Before leaving, they thanked the friendly B&B owners for their hospitality and complimented them on their excellent breakfast.

Then they took the tram back to the train station. In front of the entrance stood a beautiful piano, and two children were having fun hitting the keys haphazardly. Their mother stood next to the piano, smiling at them.

“Excuse me,” said Blaine to her. “Is this piano for everyone to use?”

She nodded and beamed at him. “Ghent does this every year. This year, it’s from 14 August until 20 September. It’s a project called “[1 2 3 Piano](http://www.123-piano.be/)”. There are seven pianos in all, spread all over Ghent, and anyone who wants to gets to play them. If you’re lucky, you get an amazing free concert. If you’re unlucky, you arrive just at the time when my daughters will make your ears bleed. Sorry about that!”

Blaine laughed. “Do you think they would mind if I took over? I can play them a Disney song if they like?”

The mother called her daughters away from the piano, and Blaine took their place, playing “A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes” for them, and then some film music from “Pride and Prejudice”, and finally “Your Song” from Moulin Rouge, serenading Kurt with such heart eyes that Kurt simply melted into a puddle right there and then.

Blaine had quite an audience by the time he stopped playing, and they applauded loudly and asked for an encore. Blaine, however, checked his watch and regretfully told them he had a train to catch. They had to hurry to platform 4, but it had been so worth it.

On the train to Antwerp, Kurt amused himself by browsing through the photographs they’d taken of their road trip recently. Whereas Kurt took very classic touristy pictures - Blaine posing in front of landmarks they visited, a selfie of the both of them on the Ghent boat trip with the [Saint Michael’s Bridge](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/53/St_Michael%27s_Bridge_Ghent.jpg) in the background, and photographs of the mouth-watering food they’d enjoyed so far - Blaine’s photography style was far more whimsical.

In Paris, Blaine had taken a picture of an opera singer performing under the arches of the beautiful Place des Vosges, of the more artsy metro entrances and decorations, of an old couple who still looked very much in love sitting on a bench hand in hand, and of a boy playing the guitar on the quays of the Seine.

In Ghent, he’d taken a picture of a wall on which someone had [graffitied very lifelike bunny drawings](https://c1.staticflickr.com/5/4099/4793679402_7ef6b44980_b.jpg), of a cat chasing pigeons, of a small child licking an ice cream, his nose, cheeks and chin covered in chocolate and his eyes shining, and of a windowsill holding every Smurf figurine imaginable.

_Huh… Not quite what I would put into my travel scrapbook, but adorable all the same…_

When they arrived in Antwerp, they had nearly an hour to kill before their next train would leave for Amsterdam, and they made good use of that time to discover [Antwerp Central](http://www.crowneplaza-antwerpen.be/wp-content/uploads/2015/06/station.jpg), easily one of the most beautiful train stations in the world.

“Hey, there’s a zoo here, right next to the station,” Blaine remarked while Kurt was taking pictures of the station’s façade.

Kurt saw the longing in Blaine’s face, and stroked his arm. “Let’s keep that for next time, sweetie.”

“Next time?” Blaine asked.

Kurt smiled. “Oh yes. You were so right about Belgium. I loved our stay here, and we’re most definitely coming back.”

 

A few links with more information about Ghent:

<http://www.theguardian.com/travel/2015/aug/03/ghent-gent-belgium-guide-food-music-art>

<http://www.lonelyplanet.com/belgium/flanders/ghent>

<http://www.ningyonomori.de/20.html>

<http://www.spottedbylocals.com/ghent/>

<http://www.geekyexplorer.com/5-reasons-why-ghent-is-underrated/>

<http://www.ghent-authentic.com/blog>

**Author's Note:**

> I’m not mentioning the B&B by name nor linking to the website because the B&B has changed hands recently, and since the new owners have taken over, the comments from guests are far from complimentary.


End file.
